


排球

by ninespercentage (nicrt)



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coming of Age, Gen, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 16:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18897973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicrt/pseuds/ninespercentage
Summary: this is what happens when i obsess over haikyuu and nine percent at the same timeor, a look into the lives of the remarkable nine members of dachang academy's volleyball club





	排球

**Author's Note:**

> may have more than a few mistakes considering i only went over it once to edit. took some liberties of sorts with how high school volleyball in china and the sport in general might work. i did my best but please let me know if at any point i'm wrong, so i can properly work on the au's details better. anyways, enjoy one volleyball dork!

**_The Little Setter_ **

for zhangjing, it hadn't always been a love; it hadn't always been a passion. rather, it'd been a bumbling sense of responsibility. it'd been a chore, something to do and get done; other things were on his mind. better things, things that actually interested him. volleyball was not one of those things.

he'd only join at first because xingjie wanted to, the volleyball fanatic. he'd roped zhangjing in back when they were in middle school; had him toss balls for him to spike whenever they had the time. so now, here he was writing his name down on a recruitment form.

that and well, it was a start at getting into shape at the very least (xingjie and ziyang like to argue with him on this, but his anxiety wouldn't have it). so he'd written his name down in the form, one of the many first years of to join Dachang Academy's volleyball team. and okay, maybe, _maybe_ , he also joined in to get a good look at the new coach; a man named zhang yixing.

he was still relatively young to be a coach, only three years zhangjing's senior. a recent alumnus from another high school, who had been a part of a volleyball team that took the nationals by storm. the rumour mill spun tales like how he had spurned his teammates awhile back, never getting along with any of them despite the wins they brought home. that he was arrogant, immediately taking on the position of coach at their school because he thought he was better. xingjie called bullshit; the down-to-earth lay would never be the kind of person to do that. and zhangjing, now having an up-close look at the man himself, agreed.

yixing was a team player and a natural leader. the few times zhangjing had a good look at him during practice, he'd always been encouraging towards the members, both old and new. a harsh and strict coach, but his criticism were always well-intentioned. he got along well with the alumni qinfen and mubo, who came down to help out sometimes. even gave them pointers during free practice after official ones ended. coach lay - as he was affectionately called - was the most helpful, most sincere, and the best kind of coach zhangjing's ever had the pleasure of training under.

that still didn't light a fire in him to do better. not enough to make him think 'ah, i like to play volleyball'. he was only there to cheer xingjie - his old friend - and ziyang - their new one - on. it didn't matter to him that he was on the reserve list of players, not even cut out for the second string. xingjie had made it as a second-string player; not yet a regular, but his spikes were dependable enough to make up for his height. ziyang was the same. tall as he may be, he was new to volleyball still; had a long way to go before he made it as a regular. they were well on their way to being accepted as first-string players with a little more time and practice; zhangjing was happy to just be there to witness it.

so when coach lay approached him to play as a setter for a match after official practice ended, he'd been surprised. 3-on-3; xingjie, ziyang, and coach lay, versus qinfen, mubo, and himself. zhangjing would admit he was nervous, even scared; he won't admit that he'd nearly pissed himself. he's done sets for others before; other members who wanted to get some training done, regulars who needed a setter when their current one was indisposed. never with any of the alumni. yet, qinfen and mubo were warm and receptive to his tosses at the very least. but he's never had to go up against coach lay like this. xingjie and ziyang might have been in cloud nine at the opportunity, but zhangjing was dreading having to receive any of the coach's serves.

they played five sets in total; yixing's team won four. the second to last set was close, very close. a two-point gap. the last one ended the same but in zhangjing's team's favour. he'd never been so tired in his life. by the time the rally ended, he was sweating like a pig, splayed out on the floor. bemoaning to his ancestors for torturing him like this. qinfen and mubo laughed, helped him up and clapped him on the back. xingjie and ziyang crowded around him, all perspiration and adrenaline, claiming that had been one of the best matches they've ever played, albeit a mock one.

coach lay had this look in his eye. amused and thoughtful, but mostly proud.

"you're playing with the first strings starting tomorrow, xiao you," he said with a smile, "congratulations."

%

no balances in his social life had been upset at the time of him making it to first string. in fact, everyone on the team had been accepting. only his own mental and emotional balance had taken a hit. first string? him? the whys, hows, and rhetoric whats were left unanswered. he was afraid to ask them. he doesn't know why. he just was. so he played. set after set, practice after practice, match after match. he played on as per normal. only this time with there was more tenacity behind the drills. there was a kind of desperation in the air, as the other members practiced.

one question was answered three weeks later: the third years were retiring. preparations for **gaokao** were underway; the interhigh preliminaries had been their last shot at nationals. they lost 1 to 3 sets on their second match. xingjie and ziyang had been there. as they tell it, it'd been a gruesome match to watch from the sidelines.

junyi, who'd been the setter for the third years, grinned down at zhangjing. he passed his jersey uniform and jacket to him; the number 9.

"you're very good, xiao you. don't let anyone say otherwise," junyi said to him. "everybody else here doesn't."

that kicked off the question of how. zhangjing suckered up and asked around. they say the same thing. he was steady as a setter, stable in his form and constant in his sets. adaptable, quick to adjust to any player he set to. he had a solid foundation in how he managed his sets for anyone on the team, be it the reserves or regulars. mubo and qinfen, seasoned players in their own rights, also said as much.

coach lay answered his last why.

"why now?" he hummed and leaned back, on a break after practice. he smiled and bounced back up. "come on, let's do a quick 2-on-2. zhourui, lao yue!" he called out and the two third years sprung onto their feet. "you two against us two."

say what?

zhourui and yueyue were good players, had been regulars on the team before they retired. still liked to spike a ball or two when they didn't have much to do or had too much to do but didn't want to. but against a match-up like coach lay? two sets were in the bag before they even started. still, it was a good experience for them, they said. they've played against players like yixing, but always unlike him too.

and an even better one for zhangjing. setting to coach lay was...different. it felt like everything he had in him, his effort and his will, was being put into each rally. each toss he tried to match to yixing's favour; each setup he tried to elevate the chances for yixing to win. each time he tried to give as much an advantage he possibly could for him to score.

huh. since when did he start to think like that?

coach lay patted his head once they were done.

"if not now, then when?" he smiled. "you're already thinking of what's best for the team, xiao you. despite your inexperience, coach ronghao already thinks you're one of better setters. you're good, xiao you. better to start getting into it now rather than later, right?"

right...

still, volleyball was just the same to zhangjing as it'd always been.

nothing's changed that.

%

"xiao you!"

the call came from the left of the court; xingjie. making a run-up towards the net, ready and waiting for the ball to come his way. to his right, ziyang loomed. watching zhangjing's movements, his expressions. anything that was a sign that told him that it would be a quick attack instead.

match point. it was do-or-die now.

_ahh_. zhangjing felt like he was underwater. everything around him echoed, sounding very far off. everyone around him suddenly moved so slow.

two blockers on xingjie.

one marking ziyang.

the libero waiting on zimo's back attack.

everyone believed in the setter's toss.

no one thought of his dump set.

the ball hit the ground with a loud thud, bouncing almost gently against the floor. quick and up front. it was over with a single whistle.

the cheers around him punctured through his daze.

game, set, and match.

%

they never made it to nationals.

they lost their fourth match.

three sets. a two-point gap.

so close. yet so far.

xingjie gritted his teeth. ziyang looked very stoic. zimo was for once, was quiet. feitong had tears at the corners of his eyes. li rang, their second-year captain, thanked his members for the effort they've put into their matches. all of them bowed, saying their thanks to coaches ronghao and lay.

zhangjing understands the pain and sadness. it was inevitable. a loss like theirs meant that their luck ran out. a loss like theirs meant another year of grueling practice and hard work. a loss like theirs meant 'there's always next year'. a loss like theirs was not a win.

a loss like theirs could have been more.

he's made his 46th toss by the time he came to that conclusion. coach lay was kind enough to help him practice, spiking or receiving whenever the ball reached him. it was nearing midnight, he thought. everyone else had left. it was just them now.

"i could have done something."

coach lay looked up at zhangjing. "maybe."

"i'm still not good enough."

coach lay hummed. "maybe."

"i-" zhangjing inhaled deeply, looked up at the high ceiling. "i want to win."

"you can."

"how?"

coach lay smiled.

"the harder you work, the luckier you are."

%

"hello, my name is lin yanjun. i was a wing spiker for my junior high school team. thank you for having me here."

the tall boy bowed deep, as if he were blessed to just be here. everyone on the team clapped for him. coach lay and ronghao nodded at their clipboards, impressed with the first year's stats. lin yanjun straightens up, nods once and returns in line. no smile, no wave; just a quiet and simple first greeting.

"xiao you, give them a few tosses," coach lay said. "see what they can do."

there are ten new faces joining their team this year.

there are four new spikers added onto their roster.

there was only one person who looked dissatisfied with his spike.

"hey," zhangjing greeted. he holds out a bottle of water for him. "my name's zhangjing."

yanjun eyed the bottle in zhangjing's hand. glanced up at him and then back to the bottle. his fingers twitch and yanjun's gaze followed. then he grinned (or smirked, it was hard to tell) and took the bottle. there were dimples in his cheeks where they lift. there are calluses on his hands where they hit the ball.

"thanks," he said. "and i know. you're xiao you.

"the little setter."


End file.
